Maxie Who?
by SallSall
Summary: Fang Reynolds saves a girl from getting hit by a dumpster because it was the chivalrous thing to do. Little did he know he just saved the very person who would become the bane of his existence and bring along many problems to his peaceful life. Currently on hiatus
1. Chapter 1

**A/N. Hi! Welcome to the wonderful land of SallSall's words. I'm trying a new approach of writing, so don't expect the best. This story may ot be updated for awhile- just warning you. Check out my other story, The Nanny if you can. Peace out, ****SallSall.**

**Disclaimer: I'm a female. Enough said.**

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"Hey, you!" A girl with brown, blonde streaked hair called out. Her eyes were a chocolate brown colour and they were round and sort of angry at the moment. Her expression made the sides of her eyes crinkle up and it made her look, well, adorably cute. -Although I'm sure she would appreciate hearing that, considering she was, what, 25?

I turned around, as did several other shoppers, at her second yell. Just the sight of her got a few wolf whistles and stares among the bustling throng of people at the shopping centre.

"Yeah, you!" This comment seemed to be directed at me. Confused, I studied her even further. Did she know me? I was prepared to explain that I didn't do anything wrong when I noticed the fading spots of bruises all along her long leg. Ah, I knew her know. Well, not _knew_ her, but recognised her.

Are you with me here? Well if not, let's go back a bit.

Okay, so I'm walking down Main Street, minding my own business, ready to go to work. - Or my part time work, anyway. There are lots of people surrounding me as we all take the same route. The traffic light turns green and we all start walking like a massive tidal wave when I hear a high-pitched feminine scream. Like, panicked scream, not an excited squeal.

So, me being the super hero here, I run off towards where I heard it. I see a young lady wearing a long, sparkling green dress that, well, let's just say looked fabulous on her. All her curves were brought out by the design of it.

Anyway, apparently this lady's high-heeled shoe or something is stuck in a grate in the middle of the road. Of course, there happens to be a runaway dumpster rolling towards her. So, being a gentleman and all I call out, "Ma'am, leave the shoe and run!" But, her, being all worried about a $1000 shoe (Wow) 'doesn't' hear me and continues tugging at it.

So, I run across the road, and by now the dumpster is hurtling along and about to collide with her, and I jump tackle her to get out of the way. We land sprawled in a messy tangle on the other side, safely. A crowd of people starting forming and someone called an ambulance. Because, see, when I pushed her roughly, she somehow hit her head on the concrete and blood was gushing out a head wound.

"Ma'am? Are you all right?" I asked, remembering all my training as a doctor. "Give her space! I'm a doctor." I ordered.

The lady stirred slightly, wincing a bit. "My shoe?" She wondered weakly.

I gave her a charming smile. "Your shoe is perfectly good, Ma'am. See, I have it right here." I showed it to her, and she closed her eyes peacefully, bringing out her beautiful, long lashes.

The wailing of sirens alerted me to the arrival of the ambulance. I rode with her to the hospital as I realised I didn't even know her name. One of the men elbowed me with recognition. "Hey, man. Who's this pretty thing and what happened to her? And you?"

I stared down at myself, confused, when I saw the red trail of blood on my arm and chest. I must've scraped myself whilst being heroic.

To answer his question, "I have no idea, check for ID. And she almost got hit by a dumpster."

We found a drivers licence that said 'Maximum Ride'. Spontaneous name, I liked it. Hey, was SHE a DUDE? I mean, Maximum. Wait, no I was pretty sure she was a lady. If her curvy body supplied any evidence to prove that. Wow, this was a strange train of thought. Let's not get distracted now, hey? On with the recount…

A colleague checked me- that was awkward, her being my 'apprentice' and all- and the lady was taken in to a private room. I sat outside in the waiting area after my check over until her doctor gave me the 'ok'. He assured me they'd find out her family as soon as she gained consciousness. I walked out without another backwards glance.

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"Hey, you!" A girl with brown, blonde streaked hair called out. Her eyes were a chocolate brown colour and they were round and sort of angry at the moment. Her expression made the sides of her eyes crinkle up and it made her look, well, adorably cute. -Although I'm sure she would appreciate hearing that, considering she was, what, 25?

I turned around, as did several other shoppers, at her second yell. Just the sight of her got a few wolf whistles and stares among the bustling throng of people at the shopping centre.

"Yeah, you!" This comment seemed to be directed at me. Confused, I studied her even further. Did she know me? I was prepared to explain that I didn't do anything wrong when I noticed the fading spots of bruises all along her long leg. Ah, I knew her know. Well, not _knew_ her, but recognised her.

It was the lady I'd rescued. I slowly picked my way towards her, excusing my self between people. "Yes, ma'am. What can I do for you?" The shopping centre, which had quietened down somewhat, seemed to move on and the bustling began once more.

The lady- wait, I knew her name now, Maximum- gestured to a coffee table and I curiously sat down, resting my messenger bag on the ground and hanging my jacket over the back of the chair. I had a feeling I'd be here for awhile.

"You had something to say to me, Ma'am?"

Maximum eyed me from over her just bought coffee. She slowly and deliberately spooned froth into her mouth, making me wait. And wait. Finally, she put the spoon down on the saucer and looked me straight on. Well, looked up at me. I was a bit taller than her even though we were both slouching in our seats.

"Yeah. I did have something to say to you. But first of all, I need a cookie." She stood up and walked over to the counter, pointing and talking to the person. It gave me a chance to study her. Some of her fashion sense had obviously gone down the drain. She was in jeans, a plain green T-shirt and worn sneakers. –Altogether costing less than one of the earrings she was wearing last week. Strange for someone who's worried about a shoe.

"Earth to saviour guy." I blinked at Maximum's hand, which was in front of my face.

"Yes? And the name's Fang, Ma'am."

"Okay, well, can I ask you a question?" Maximum wondered.

"You just did." I pointed out and she scowled. Uncrossing her arms and taking a bite out of her cookie, Maximum continued.

"It was a rhetorical question, _Fang_. Firstly, I'm Max. Secondly, well, I guess I have to thank you for rescuing me. One of the doctors was with me before, helping me shop and she told me you saved me. Thanks. What exactly did you save me from, may I ask?"

I stared confusedly at Max. "You don't almost get hit by a dumpster and forget." I remarked, genuinely astonished.

Max's eyebrows pulled together. "I got hit by a dumpster? Hmm, I don't remember that. The doctors said I was probably suffering from concussion when I couldn't tell them who my parents were. They said my memory would come back quickly. Sure hope it does."

There was a pause. What could I say? Every sentence I tried out in my mind didn't really work.

"What are you? My boyfriend? My brother? A friend? One of my friends' friend?" Max listed pretty much all the possibilities. I felt my cheeks heat up.

"Uh, no. Look, before the incident, I didn't know who you were. You are still a total stranger. I have no idea who you are except that your name is Maximum Ride."

Max frowned. "I already know my name thanks, _Mister Fang_." She mocked, "That's about the only thing I know though. Damn! I was hoping you could spark a memory or two." She slumped in defeat.

Absurdly, I felt like I should pout my arm around her and comfort her. But I didn't. Max again ploughed me with questions.

"Why did you save me then? Why the hell was I almost hit by a dumpster? Why can't I remember anything? Do I live somewhere?"

The last question caught me off guard. "I saved you because it was the right thing to do. You were almost hit by a dumpster because you got a shoe stuck in a grate in the middle of the road and you HAD to rescue it. As for the other two questions, I'm a doctor but that's not my area of expertise. I guess you can stay at my place tonight and tomorrow we'll go and see what the clinic have found out about you. Okay?"

Max absently chewed her cookie. I wondered where she'd got the money to pay for the meal. I also wondered why the medical staff had let her out because clearly, she wasn't in full health. And just to get all my wonderings out there, I also wondered what my roommate who apparently had feelings for me would think of Max. Plus, I wanted to know what I would eat for dinner tonight. But that was completely off topic.

"Okay, why was I trying to rescue a shoe? When a DUMPSTER was going to squash me flat into a splatter off goo and gore?" I winced at the mental image.

"Nice description. You see, try to remember that I don't know you. I don't know why you were so intent on saving the shoe over your life, but I do know you seemed to have a whole different attitude on life when I rescued you."

Max looked thoughtful. She seemed to be going over things in her head. After munching the last bit of her cookie and finishing her now cold coffee, she stood up. She stuck out a delicate, manicured hand and hissed when she saw her nails.

"Wow. I must have been off my rocker before. This incident may have been the best thing that's ever happened to me. I already sold those ugly, heavy diamond earrings and those horrid shoes. Oh, and some huge rings that were too sparkly for my taste. Now, I see nail polish remover is added to my shopping list."

Smirking, I pushed in my chair, scooped up my jacket and put the messenger strap over my shoulder. I jerked my head towards the door. Max obediently followed me out into the sea of people. "Don't you have to tell the nurse who came with you goodbye, Ma'am?" I asked.

Max narrowed her eyes at me. "It's MAX, you big doofus. If you call me Ma'am, I'm calling you Tooth, and I'll punch you. Yeah, I'll go find that lady who came with me. Be right back."

I plucked a newspaper from the stand and read today's headlines. One of the headlines read: BEWARE of aliens. I snorted, earning a strange look from the saleslady. I put on my dazzling smile for her and she looked away, blushing. Content, I flicked through the pages until I became aware of a small presence next to me.

"Mmm hmm?"

A cough. I glanced up, or down, as it happened to be. A slim, athletic lady who looked incredibly beautiful cleared her throat again. "What can I do for you, Ma'am?" She scowled.

A fist came flying out and hit my square on the chest. I stood there winded for a second or two. Then came the confusion. "Why the hell did you hit me?" I hissed, trying not to make a scene.

The girl cocked her head. "I said, if you ever called me 'Ma'am' again I'd…" oh. I knew that voice.

"What happened to you?" I asked Max, gesturing to her clothes and heavily make up covered face.

"Liz went and bought me some clothes anyway and she _insisted_ on dressing me up with make up as well. I feel yucky. Can we go now?" I nodded and showed her to my old jalopy.

As we drove, I began to think up ways I'd explain Max to Chelsea. (My roomy) All my mates had said Chelsea looked at me with more than friendship and I nervously wondered how she'd take the news of another FEMALE sleeping in our house for a night. And Chelsea was the overdramatic type…

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**A/N: So, what did you think? As always, reviews are mucho appreciated. And since this is a new story, I'd love a few reviews to get it started. Bye for now!**

**Peace out,**

**SallSall.**

**P.S. I've resolved to short Author's notes. Pray it can last! Cya.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's the next chapter for yous!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Max Ride, but I'm working on it.**

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"Welcome in, Max." I tried not to smirk outwardly at her attempts to rub off the makeup. Now her whole face was multicoloured. Her cheeks were black from smudged mascara. Everywhere was bright red and pink from blush and lipstick and her forehead had a green tinge to it from eye shadow.

That's what makes being a male so much easier. We don't need to look pretty. - Well I speak for myself here. I dropped all my things on the kitchen bench. Max walked around, inspecting everything. From the light blue coloured walls, to the slightly rotten banana in the fruit bowl, Max studied EVERYTHING.

I cleared my throat ten minutes later, catching Max's attention. "Uh, Max. Do you need to take a shower or, erm, something?"

Max compressed a smile. She nodded graciously and I lead her to the bathroom, giving her a hurried tour of the house as we walked. "…That's where you'll be sleeping tonight, the Guest Bedroom, the toilet, oh and here is the bathroom."

I fetched her a clean towel and an unopened bar of soap, which she took thankfully. Max shrugged of her backpack and brought out a silk nightie, a soft and fluffy pink robe, some face cleanser and body wash, plus her, um, brasandunderwear. Which I tried not to stare at.

She shooed me out, turned the fan on and I heard the water go on with a squeak. Yes, our (Chelsea and my) cosy home wasn't that flash and new but it housed us fine.

Whistling, I turned on the TV and stretched out on the sofa to watch a rerun of a movie.

…..(A few minutes later.)

"Fang, wake up. Now, or I'll pour ice water on your head and I'll turn on the lights." I rolled over, ignoring the annoying voice.

"Buzz off." I mumbled.

I heard soft footsteps go in the direction of the laundry. Then the bathroom. Then the laundry. I heard cussing and swearing and a loud bang. Then I could sense the brightness of the overhead lights, even with my eyelids shut closed.

"Fang! Now!" Max yelled, and I felt the prickle of chilled water trickle down my neck.

"Shit! I'm up. What did you want?" I opened my eyes just in time to see Max mouth the words 'uh-oh' and a whole bucket of cold water was dumped on me. I narrowed my eyes and resisted the urge to grab Max and shake her till she begged for mercy.

But we couldn't have the fantastic, smart, funny, charming, gorgeous and totally hot looking hero killing the damsel in distress, now, could we?

Instead, I chased Max around the small house. Flat out sprint. Did I forget to mention that she had only a short towel around her body? Well, yeah there was that. Max was running, laughing and shrieking hysterically and we ran round in circles, like a cat chasing a mouse.

Finally, Max turned around and charged at me. Not expecting the change in direction, I only managed to slow down enough to avoid breaking a bone. We only had a minor collision, but might I add I now have one heck of a bruise starting to form.

With Max chortling and I doubled over with laughter, I stood up, brushed the imaginary dust off my shirt and offered Max a hand. Making sure her towel was secure; she accepted and pulled herself up.

"I think I'm beginning to like the new you. Now, what was it you wanted?" I asked.

Max's face blanked out in confusion and then her expression cleared. She coughed, suddenly embarrassed. "Oh, um. There's, uh, someone's, underwear hanging on the, uh, tap for the shower. I don't really want to touch it, you know?"

I followed Max to the shower and stared at Chelsea's underwear. Come to think of it, I didn't really want to touch it, either. I paused, wondering how I could get out of this dilemma.

Max prodded me on the shoulder blade- hard. "Well? Get rid of it."

"Look, how about you have a wash later, after Chelsea's back?" I stalled.

"Be a man and just do it."

"I don't want to be a man. I want to be a guy who is really creeped out by his roomie's undergarments and chickens out from touching them." I whined. Yes, the hero is whining to the damsel. Sad, I know.

"Well, congratulations. You got the part." With a disgusted grimace, Max flung Chelsea's underwear onto the carpet and locked the bathroom door in my face.

Humming, I went back to the T.V and resumed resting. I yawned and tried to go back to sleep. Man, throwing yourself in front of dumpsters to save random, multipersonalitied girls sure uses up a guy's energy fast.

Max emerged looking crisp and fresh. She smelt of lemon and peach and a bit of garbage. She had on the silk nightie and looked awkward in it. It reached her mid thigh, and accentuated her lanky, slim form. Which was, to me, extremely attractive. If I ever caught someone who didn't think Max was beautiful by her own rights, they truly could not appreciate perfection when it was staring them right in the eye and prodding them.

"Hi. So…What's up for dinner?" I glanced down at my wrist, then feeling stupid because there wasn't a watch there; at the main kitchen clock.

"Hmm. 5:30. Not quite dinnertime, Max. I was thinking we could get to know each other better, since, well, you are sleeping under my roof tonight." I pointed out.

Max shrugged and I continued. "How about you say 3 things about yourself; two correct and once false and I'll tell you which I think is false. Then, I'll go."

Max shrugged again. "Okay… I'm a girl, I like eating and I have a dog named Fido."

I laughed. "Well I'm hoping that first one was true and I've gathered that you take your food seriously, so number three is wrong. Also adding the fact you can't even remember who your mother is."

Max sniggered. "Wrong. The last one is correct. See, I'll even show him to you." She produced a stuffed dog out of her bag. "And just to let you know, I don't _like_ eating, I _love_ it."

I glared, miffed. And I thought it was easy. "My go. Here, sit down." She squished in next to me, ignoring my gesture at the other couch. "Okay. I've had lots of girlfriends, I sleep with a teddy every night and I try to avoid talking a lot."

Max frowned. "I can't believe you've never had a girlfriend." Damn! How did she know? There was a wicked twinkle in Max's eyes. Damn again.

"Anyway, enough of that game. How about an honest game of one question, one answer?" She suggested. The game's name was self-explanatory.

My turn to shrug. Max went first again. "How old are you?"

"Going to be 24 soon. And you?"

"I'm 40." I felt my jaw drop before I registered the look on Max's face. "Just kidding. I think they said 23." Oops, so my guess earlier was a little off the mark.

Max rubbed her hands together gleefully. "Why haven't you had a girlfriend before?"

I grimaced. "Haven't found the right person, you know? Sure, I've had flings but not a steady girlfriend. My record is a week. So I'm known as a kind of player."

Max nodded thoughtfully. "Is there really any point in me asking you questions?"

"No. I don't know much about myself yet. Maybe we can both get to know me together. Or, the old me. Do you feel sort of connected to me?"

I felt myself go red but a question was question. "Connected as in how?"

Max smiled crookedly. "You haven't answered my question yet. So I'm not answering that."

I sighed. "Fine, yes. Does the fact that you're pretty much a stranger and yet you're sitting in my house and staying here tonight indicate anything to you?"

"I suppose it means you like me to some degree. I also suppose I could get used to spending the night with handsome strangers." She flashed a smile and went off to towel her drying hair, which was already curling up at the ends.

It was now past six. Obviously Chelsea was going to be home late tonight. I tried not to think about the way Max made me feel. Every time she smiled and even spoke to me, I felt my insides do a little jig. A happy, bouncy, giddy little jig.

I decided that I couldn't be bothered cooking anything fancy, so I settled for spaghetti. I ripped open a packed of spirals and boiled some water. I let the pasta simmer until it was nice and soft, then drained it and dished out two even bowls. Next, I chucked in tomato paste, herbs, garlic, carrot, celery, tomatoes and mincemeat into a big cooking pot.

That should do it. I spooned sauce over the pasta and sprinkled some Parmesan cheese over the top. How's that for a pretty hopeless cook? Chelsea usually cooked and if it was my turn to make dinner, it was takeaway food. But, I wanted to impress Max tonight.

I brought the bowls over to the dining table and put on relaxing background music, plus I lit a few candles, dimming the lights a touch. Max came back in, raising her eyebrows at, well, everything. She eyed the meal.

"Is it edible? I couldn't cook to save my life."

I took a forkful of spaghetti, savouring the delicious taste. Max answered her own questions. "Well, it certainly _looks_ edible. And you're still alive after that mighty mouthful." She plonked down in the seat across from me. She practically inhaled the spaghetti and devoured her second bowl just as fast.

Looking at my open mouth, she grinned self-consciously. "I was hungry. The hospital staff must think I'm anorexic or something. I hardy got _anything_ to eat there."

Chuckling to myself, I grabbed her bowl, shivering at the slight tingle her hand left on mine as they brushed. Max followed me to the kitchen and watched as I washed the two bowls.

Suddenly, she giggled. "You have red sauce all around your mouth!"

I laughed back. "Don't think I'm the only one."

Max scrubbed and wiped her mouth furiously with the back of her hand. I wrung out the washcloth and amused myself staring at her futile attempts to get rid of the sauce stains. I grabbed a napkin.

"Here, let me help you with that." But as I leaned in closer to dab her mouth, I let the napkin drop the ground.

Everything happened in slow motion after that. I vaguely dismissed Max's confused look. Then my lips were on hers and all thought was eradicated from my mind. Except, maybe enough brain cells to register a few slightly inappropriate things I could be doing with Max right now, or soon. She kissed back sweetly, after the initial shock.

Then, I suppose my brain wasn't as fried as I earlier suspected, because I heard the groaning of the unoiled hinges of our front door. And the clack of high heels on the floorboards. I also felt Max try to pull away suddenly.

"What. The. Hell?" Oh. I told you Chelsea was the overdramatic type.

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**Hip, hip hooray! All done and ready. Enjoy.**

**Peace out,**

**SallSall**


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